Page 22 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Lena

“I’ve awakened from a long sleep to the promise of a new life. Or am I still dreaming?”

Tick-tock—tick-tock beats loudly against my chest, forcing my eyelids to peel back to search for the noise.

I open my eyes to a blurry world, as if I’m surfacing from the deepest, heaviest sleep of my life. Everything is strange—unfamiliar voices, the sterile scent in the air mixed with something warmer, grounding, and oddly comforting.

My gaze lands on a figure standing over me, and it takes me a moment to register that it’s Serafim. My son. He’s grown at least an inch.

He’s staring at me with wide, glistening eyes, and for a moment, we just look at each other. I see relief, pain, and something deeper in his expression. He smiles widely.

“Momma,” he breathes. His voice breaking in a way I remember from when he was learning to talk. “You’re... really awake.”

Awake? How long did I sleep? What happened?

I try to sit up, but my body protests—everything feels weak. Before I can manage it alone, someone is there. His hands are gentle but steady as he helps me. I can feel his strength and, even more than that, his care. Who is he?

I look him over. Other than my son Colin, he’s the first adult male who doesn’t elicit fear in my heart.

“What happened?” My voice cracks from the lack of use.

Serafim recounts the fear my slumber caused him. Tears fall from his eyes while he cuddles under my arm. The man who helped me sit up is in the corner. “This is Issak. He… he’s been waiting for you too,” my son tells me. I look over at the man.

Isaak steps toward us hesitantly. A kind of reverence flickers in the way he looks at me, and my breath catches. I don’t know him, yet there’s something in his eyes that somehow feels... right. His expression holds a depth I can’t explain.

Isaak. The name eases my mind. Unfamiliar and yet immediately dear. I can’t stop looking at him, feeling this inexplicable pull in my chest.

As I watch him come closer, my son quietly moves away, giving us space I didn’t even know I needed.

Isaak takes another step closer, and I nod slightly, encouraging him to keep going. He smiles so warmly my heart aches.

“Lena,” he says, as if my name itself holds a promise he’s held onto. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. Serafim talks about you nonstop.”

A tear slips down my cheek. Isaak’s gaze deepens, and his eyes fill with hope. Isaak explains what happened to me. The infected tooth, the coma, the arrival of others, and the defeat of the men using us for their pleasure.

I don’t know how to process it all—the pain of missing so much, the gratitude of being here now, and of having this second chance.

Isaak reaches out, and before I even think, I take his hand. His touch is warm and real in a way that makes everything in me feel fragile and strong at the same time.

“You took care of my son,” I whisper, astonished that any man would. He squeezes my hand. His eyes shining with unspoken promises.

“I always will,” he replies. His voice holds a gentleness that makes me feel like I’m coming alive in every way that matters. In this moment, I understand that something new is beginning—something I’m not entirely ready for but already grateful for with every part of me.

“Thank you, Isaak. Please, you haven’t told me who you are.”

Serafim interrupts. “He’s my patér .”

“I don’t know what that is. ”

Isaak kneels before me. “Ioannis kept you from the life you were created for. Our maker, Helios, has blessed his children with many gifts. For Ioannis and the others—their pain interfered with the Fates’ plans for your life.”

I’m confused. “Are you saying you are the Fates’ plan for me?”

Isaak chuckles. “Part of it. Not all of it. Helios and the Fates long for us to enjoy this life. Pain and suffering were never part of their purpose for us. But they can’t control the actions of the ones who don’t trust them to take care of them. Like Ioannis. Something brought him to a point that made him believe he could give himself what he needs for happiness. Helios never wanted us to bring ourselves happiness. When we try to do it ourselves, we end up in a prison, like the one you’ve grown up in.”

“And you haven’t strived to bring yourself this happiness?”

Isaak bows his head. “Sometimes. And when it fails, I go back to him for forgiveness.”

“Where do I fit into this plan—this happiness?”

“You’re his mate,” Serafim announces with a giant grin on his face.

His what?

My face falls.

Isaak gives Serafim a firm but gentle look. My son drops his eyes to the floor. “It’s okay, Serafim. I know you’re excited,” Isaak reassures him. His head raises with a smile across his cheeks.

Who is this man? Why does my son love him and trust him?

“Lena, you’ve been through a lot. Your life has been dictated to you. I don’t want to be another thing you’ve been told is your only choice.”

I turn my head to the side. “Does it have something to do with this ticking I’m hearing?”

Isaak laughs again. His face is almost angelic when he smiles. I resist the urge to cup his cheek.

“When two mates are ready to find one another, they both hear a ticking that guides them toward each other.”

Mates? My mate. “And you hear this too? Right now?”

He nods.

“Is it—is it permanent?” My hands cover my heart.

“It ends when you reject me or when we—we consummate.”

I really do have a choice.

“Do I have to decide right now?”

“Right now, focus on getting your strength back. Nothing else matters except that.”

In all the confusion, I forgot about Colin. How could I forget about my firstborn? “Colin?” I jump to my feet. My head spins. Isaak catches me before I fall and sets me back on the bed.

“Colin is with his mate. He will meet us outside of my herd’s labyrinth if and when you are ready to travel.”

There goes my choice. Choosing my children is the only choice I’ll ever make.